


From Wrong to Right

by sunshineflying



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Past Perrie Edwards/Zayn Malik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 03:49:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3963307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineflying/pseuds/sunshineflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn's struggling to let go of an old relationship, but his best friends and roommates Liam and Louis are determined to help him get over it. A chance encounter at a club and a failed attempt at getting someone's number leads Zayn right to the man he's been waiting for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Wrong to Right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wildestoftales](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildestoftales/gifts).



> Written for the Ziall fic exchange. Thank you so much to my friends who helped me get through this (you all know who you are). Your cheerleading kept me from giving up on this fic when fandom struggles got in the way. I hit dead ends and you all got me through it, so thank you so much!
> 
> Shout out to my beta Mariah as well - you're the best!
> 
> To wildestoftales, the person for whom this is written: I really hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun making this prompt and plot a reality and I hope it's everything you hoped for.

“Alright, get up. We’re going out!”

Louis wanders into Zayn’s room without bothering to knock. Zayn’s pouring over his literature assignment on a Friday night and it’s not the worst thing in the world, if he’s being honest. But his roommate Louis is restless, especially on weekends, so Zayn isn’t surprised  by the intrusion whatsoever. It doesn’t help that Louis’s boyfriend and their third flatmate, Liam, doesn’t have to work for once. Liam works at the radio station on campus, but he’s been training in a new person for when he graduates so he’s letting the new kid take over for the night.

This means Louis wants to go out; Liam’s probably just as eager because he’s totally whipped so Zayn doesn’t stand a chance.

Zayn sighs and asks, “Do we have to?”

“Don’t be stupid. _Yes_ , we have to. You’re not sitting around alone while Liam and I go out. We’ve let you do that for too long so now you have to come with,” Louis replies, throwing a clean shirt at Zayn’s face.

Zayn sputters, grabs at the clothing, and rolls his eyes. Arguing with Louis is pointless because one way or another he always wins, so Zayn reluctantly resigns himself to his fate. “Pouting doesn’t look good on you,” Louis adds. “You need to relax. Maybe you’ll find someone at the club tonight.”

“I don’t need to meet someone. Or relax. I need to finish my revision, is what I need to do,” Zayn argues.

He’s changing into the shirt Louis chose for him though, which Louis takes to mean that he’s already won. “You’re over Perrie even if you think you’re not. Trust me,” Louis says.

Zayn doesn’t say anything in reply to that. His ex-girlfriend Perrie left him after a rather messy ordeal involving photos at a party that implied he’d done things he shouldn’t have with someone other than Perrie. Nothing happened, but she didn’t trust him after that and their relationship slowly started to deteriorate until finally she called it off. As a result, he’d immersed himself even deeper into his studies than he’d been before as a way of coping, but Louis was determined to make sure that Zayn had fun in university, too.

While Louis sends Liam off to put on a different shirt (something tighter, of course – Louis can’t get enough of Liam’s muscles), Zayn combs his hair into a ponytail. The sides of his head are shaved cleanly, and he likes the sleek look of super short hair circling the long ponytail atop his head.

When they get to the club, Zayn hears the music before they even get inside. It’s loud and booming, flooding through his skin and deep into his bones. He knows he’ll have a headache by the end of the night. It’s one of the reasons he’s never been all that fond of clubs.

There’s a drink in his hand before he can even tell Louis he doesn’t feel like having one, and Zayn knows he’s not control of his evening. Louis means well, and Zayn understands that. Liam does too, but at least he’s less forceful about it. He claps Zayn on the shoulder and says, “Try to have fun, yeah? Give it an hour or two and if it’s still boring, I’ll help you sneak out.”

Zayn’s grateful for Liam’s support, so he nods and holds up his glass. He says “cheers,” but it’s drowned out by the music, thumping and thudding around them as bodies move together sinfully on the dance floor.

Deciding to go for broke, Zayn downs his whole drink – a plain old vodka soda to start things off easily – and then heads out onto the dance floor. He’s trying to make his way to Louis and Liam but the crowd is thick and he can’t fit through the tiny gaps. Just when he thinks he’s trapped in the middle of grinding bodies, someone’s grinding on _him_ and he freezes.

There are large hands on his hips the man’s thumbs rubbing over his hip bones gently. It’s calming, and Zayn decides to just give in and dance with this stranger. He smells good, too, like incense and oranges. Daring to sneak a peek, Zayn turns his head as the man leans down. They’re so close, their noses bump and he can feel the man’s hot breath on his cheek. He’s taller than Zayn, clearly, and he’s leaning in to speak to him. “’m Harry,” he says, lips grazing Zayn’s ear.

“Zayn,” he replies.

The man is attractive, with long curly hair and a sheer floral shirt with faint outlines of tattoos showing through it. He’s not Zayn’s usual type, but this night isn’t about finding his soul mate. His hips are rolling against Zayn’s ass and it’s clear that he can dance well, so Zayn decides to give in and have fun. If he hadn’t had the drink, he’d probably still be on the sidelines, but that was likely Louis’s plan from the start. It’s eerie how well Louis knows him sometimes.

Harry’s a great dancer and he doesn’t push for more. Sometimes people Zayn dances with at clubs (on the rare occasion that he goes) only want one thing, so they’re constantly touching him and letting their hands drift into more dangerous places. Harry seems to just want to dance, and even though sometimes his long curls brush Zayn’s face and tickle a little bit, he just keeps going. He’s not too bad with his hips either, though he feels a bit awkward because he’s still pretty sober. At least Harry seems to like it.

They dance for one song, and then two, and then Harry’s leaning in to ask if he can get him a drink. Zayn hesitates, but then nods. Louis gives him the thumbs up from his place a short distance away on the dance floor, and Zayn lets Harry lead him through the crowd.

When they get to the bar, Harry buys Zayn a drink and they talk for a bit, but it’s clear they wouldn’t have much in common past a night of dancing at a club. Harry’s too eccentric, too healthy, too kind. Zayn thinks he doesn’t deserve him, like they’d clash because he smokes and Harry does yoga and he studies while Harry ventures out to explore the world.

They part ways, both of them apparently seeing the discord between themselves, and Zayn starts to head back out to the dance floor to find Louis and Liam. Yet again, he’s intercepted by bodies and someone starts to dance on him. Zayn’s buzzed now, so he gives in again. The rolls his hips without reservations, the nice blur in his head making everything seem okay. Alcohol always does that to him, makes him agreeable and loose.

 Zayn’s sort of glad he let Louis talk him into this, because it’s the most relaxed he’s felt in days. Whoever this bloke is dancing up behind him, he’s warm and he’s a little rough, but he holds Zayn possessively against him and dances like they’re the only ones in the room. His cheek rubs against Zayn’s as he’s enveloped with his touch, and it’s nice to feel wanted like this. Zayn could dance with this bloke all night.

When the guy asks if they can get a drink after dancing for a while, Zayn nods and again, lets himself be led to the bar. He’s always been the passive one, but he’ll walk out if he’s uncomfortable. This guy isn’t as attractive as Harry and doesn’t even give his name. He doesn’t look as interested as Harry does, and he keeps looking around at everyone else in the bar instead of at Zayn. It’s like he’s scoping out the next person to dance with or something.

Zayn accepts the drink gratefully and since this guy is fit and Zayn’s a bit drunk, he asks, “Can I have your number?”

He’s not reading the signs, because this guy is obviously not that into him. But Zayn’s turned on from dancing and his head’s buzzing from the drinks he’s had, so he thinks this is good. It’s a step. Louis will probably bug him and tell him he should’ve gotten someone’s number if he doesn’t, so it’s better to just do it, Zayn figures. Plus, he wouldn’t mind seeing this guy again.

The guy scribbles down a number on a napkin but doesn’t write a name, and they go out on the floor for one more dance before Zayn realizes the guy’s snuck away to dance with someone else. “Y’alright?” asks a familiar voice.

Zayn looks to his other side to see Louis and Liam, sweaty but remarkably sober-looking. “Er… yeah,” Zayn says, voice drowned out by the music. “Drinks?”

“How many have you had?” Louis asks as Zayn wobbles towards the bar.

Zayn orders another drink, his ego bruised by the guy who’d ditched him. He’s glad he’s gotten his number. It means he can call him and yell at him. He’d have to do it while drunk because he’s a bit too shy otherwise, but shouting at him is the top priority on Zayn’s mind right now anyway. “Dunno,” he replies belatedly.

Louis and Liam exchange a glance and watch Zayn as he drinks down half of his rum and coke in one go. “Thirsty, mate?” Liam wonders.

Zayn nods, and Liam’s ordering him a water in an instant. “You looked like you were having fun,” Louis comments.

“I guess, yeah,” Zayn shrugs. His words are lazily slurring together as he explains. “First guy was great but we didn’t click, y’know? And then like… the next guy. He was great. Brilliant dancer. Got his number, even. But then he just left.”

“What a prick,” Louis says incredulously.

Zayn nods. He holds up the napkin and says, “Think I might give him a piece of my mind later. After last call.”

Louis grins. He’s usually one to encourage mischief so it’s no surprise he’s not trying to talk Zayn out of it. Liam’s handing Zayn a large glass of water, trading it for the glass Zayn had just emptied in record time. “Alright, I think you’ve had enough. No angry drunk calls or any of that,” Liam says.

“Oh Liam, let him have his fun,” Louis interjects. “He’s allowed.”

They stand around the bar a bit longer, Zayn sipping at his water and Liam and Louis each nursing a strong drink. When the bartender shouts last call, Louis leans towards him and asks for six shots. “Louis!” Liam chides.

He looks at Zayn who’s decidedly more sober than he was when they’d found him a little while ago, and then back to Liam, and he says simply, “It’ll be fun.”

Liam knows he can’t win against Louis – nobody can, really – so he agrees and they each take two. “Do them both in a row, no chaser! Ready?” Louis shouts.

Zayn’s definitely ready, but Liam doesn’t look like he is. He nods anyway, and Louis counts them down. Zayn throws back two shots like it’s nothing, and so does Louis. Liam, however, looks about ready to vomit by the time he’s finished the second one. He grabs at Zayn’s glass of water and sips the rest down desperately. Louis and Zayn are both chuckling, amused, and Liam just says weakly, “I know, I know. You don’t have to say anything.”

Louis leans over to give him a big kiss and then he says, “Come on, let’s go. Zayn’s got a very important call to make.”

Zayn had forgotten about the call, if he’s being totally honest, but he nods with a revitalized frustration at being ditched by that guy. They’re barely outside before he’s pulling out his phone. He clumsily dials the number written down on his napkin and he’s relieved when he hears it ring.

“’lo?”

The voice is groggy and Zayn wonders what this guy has been doing to sound that way. Deciding to make his own assumptions, Zayn slurs, “I can’t believe you left me in the bar like that! Was I not good enough for you or somethin’?”

There’s laughter on the other line and that only fuels Zayn’s fire. “You’re bein’ a right prick, dancin’ with me and leavin’ like that. What d’you think you’re on about?” he asks angrily.

“Look, I dunno what you’re talking about because I haven’t been out all night,” the man says.

“Yes you fuckin’ were,” Zayn insists. “We danced at the club!”

“I’m really sorry but I think you’ve been given a wrong number,” the man on the other line laughs. “What’s the name of the person you’re lookin’ for?”

“He… he didn’t say,” Zayn says, beat.

The laughter doubles and Zayn’s so embarrassed he hangs up the phone instead of bothering to say another word. Liam’s just called them a cab and Louis’s watching Zayn with curiosity, but they don’t speak. They just climb into the cab and head home. When they get to the flat Liam pays the driver and they wander upstairs on wobbly legs, those last two shots hitting them hard and all at once. “You okay?” Louis asks.

Liam’s dispensing pills for each of them to hopefully take the edge off in the morning, and Zayn’s looking down at the counter and swaying on the spot where he stands. “’m good, yeah,” he nods.

He’s not, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. Thankfully Louis isn’t as pushy as he usually is. Zayn’s pretty sure that’s because he’s ready to jump Liam’s bones, actually, but he’ll take it. He leaves those to at it, wandering into his room and switching on some music to try to drown out the sounds of Liam and Louis down the hall. He lies down, and even over the noise of his roommate’s moans, he passes out, exhausted from the evening.

Zayn’s quite annoyed when he wakes up, partially because of the memory from the night before and partially because his back is fucking killing him and he’s got a headache that feels like his head is being split open. He rolls onto his side and doesn’t bother climbing out of bed yet. It’ll likely just make his head hurt more, and he doesn’t want that.

He sees his phone on the floor next to his bed and reaches out for it. He taps the home button but it doesn’t light up; he’d forgotten to plug it in so now it’s dead. He fumbles around for his power cord and plugs it in, still curled up in bed. When it comes back to life, a few text messages pop up on his screen from an unknown number.

 **07700 900243:** hope u got home safe !!

 **07700 900243:** sorry I laughed at u. its not often a fake # turns out to be real tho !

 **07700 900243:** my names niall btw

Zayn groans and rolls over in bed, the memories becoming clearer in his head. He’s never been given a fake number before… people are _into_ him, that’s just how it works. He knows that sounds conceited but it’s true. He’s aware that to most people, he’s an attractive man. Besides, it was insulting for that man to dance with him so much only to have no interest in him whatsoever, at least in that moment the night before. Now he’s too hungover and too sober to care.

Now someone’s got his number and his name is Niall and he’s rather persistent with his text messages. Zayn’s not sure if he should message back or not. This guy laughed at his situation, after all.

With a sigh, Zayn taps out a short message.

 **Zayn:** I got home alright, yea. cheers

He lets his phone drop back to the floor and he dozes off again, waking only when Louis is pounding on his door demanding that he make them breakfast. “I’m hungover too you prick,” he shouts.

“But you’re not sore from sex too so up and at ‘em, mate!” Louis says, peeking into the room.

Zayn buries his face in the blankets as Louis wanders in, and he hears his phone ding with another message but doesn’t reach out to look at it. “Who’s that?” Louis asks, glancing down at the phone number that’s popped up on the screen. Zayn hasn’t added it to his contact list yet.

He reaches out for Zayn’s phone but Zayn grabs it first, hugging it to his chest. He doesn’t even look at it, just tells them to bugger off. “Breakfast. Now.” Louis urges, frustrated that he’s not getting his way.

“Babe, d’you want…” Liam asks as he barges in, spatula in hand. He sees Louis watching Zayn with concern, and he asks, “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Zayn mumbles into his blankets.

“Zayn won’t make me breakfast _or_ tell me who he’s texting,” Louis pouts.

Liam sighs and moves further into the room so he can corral Louis out. “It’s his own business, and _I’m_ making you breakfast so get your arse out of his room. He looks like he needs more sleep,” Liam says.

Zayn doesn’t, really, but he’s grateful to Liam for trying. He’s also grateful for Liam bringing him a fry-up of eggs and bacon for breakfast once he’s fed Louis. It’s only after he has food in his belly and the edge has been taken off his hangover that Zayn decides to look at his phone again.

 **07700 900243:** i’m not the guy from last night but u could still text me if u wanted !! just no yellin ;)

Zayn wants to be annoyed, wants to insist that this guy is playing a trick on him, but he sounded genuine on the phone last night and he seems to still be genuine now. He sighs and wonders what would happen if he agreed to keep texting this guy. It wouldn’t be the craziest thing he’s ever done, nor would it hurt him in any way, as long as he didn’t get too attached. How attached could he get just by texting, anyway?

After another moment’s thought, Zayn decides to go for it. He gives a name to Niall’s number as he adds it to his contact list and then replies to his message.

 **Zayn:** No yelling, I think I can handle that. You alright?

And after that it’s like a dam breaks and Zayn can’t really focus on his anger from the night before because Niall seems cool. He even sends a picture of himself with his big fluffy goldendoodle dog to prove that he’s not the guy from the bar that blew Zayn off. Zayn swears Louis’s wrong when Louis claims he caught Zayn staring at the photo. There’s no way he was _that_ enthralled by Niall’s gorgeous blue eyes, really.

They get along really well, which surprises Zayn because he’s often thought of himself as a person who doesn’t appeal to most other people. He’s quiet and reserved and he really values studying. When he’s not studying, he makes art to unwind and then after that, whatever time is left he devotes to friends. It’s hard enough for him to maintain a friendship with Louis, and then by extension Liam (who came into Zayn’s life once he’d started dating Louis) and honestly, friendships sometimes stress Zayn out. They make him feel like he doesn’t have enough time in the day for everyone, like he’s blowing someone off without even trying.

But this thing with Niall is different because they’re just texting. Niall understands that Zayn’s got class or revision or other things going on in his life. Zayn likes that he can just shoot a text message now and again instead of having to give his full attention in person. It’s like texting is how they were meant to communicate – and it’s the easiest friendship Zayn’s ever maintained in his life.

Zayn spends every free moment of his final semester texting Niall. They’ve talked on the phone one or two times since that first phone call Zayn made while drunk, but it’s not the norm. Louis, who is usually needy with Zayn so their friendship stays strong, has given him space. He didn’t at first, but when Zayn mentions that it’s Niall over and over again, Louis gets the suspicion that maybe Zayn’s finally found someone new. He’d been trying to help him get over his past relationship for months.

So Louis watches from afar as Zayn grins at his phone and enthusiastically taps out messages the whole time they’re trying to watch _Sherlock_ or whatever else Louis queued up on Netflix. Liam wants to ask questions but as it’s a phone thing, it feels too private for him to ask about. Zayn’s always got his phone on him now (which both he and Liam like, since he didn’t before), but at the same time, they’re worried.

“You sure he’s real?” Louis wonders one night as they’re out on the balcony having a smoke.

“He’s sent me loads of pictures, Lou,” Zayn replies.

It’s not a yes or no answer, and Louis wonders if he’s got doubts. “Have you shown him what you look like?” Louis pries.

“Not yet, no,” Zayn shrugs.

“Zayn! It’s been months! You’re _flirting_ with him!”

Zayn turns sharply to look at Louis and asks, “What? I’m not flirting with him.”

“I’ve seen your face when you’re texting him. You’re flirting.”

With a sigh, Zayn nods and says, “Okay yeah, but like… it’s just texting. He’s not into me like that. Besides, I’ve never dated a guy before.”

“Okay, true. Then false. And who cares?” Zayn raises an eyebrow. “Sure, it’s just texting, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real,” Louis points out. “And he _is_ into you like that. He wouldn’t text you incessantly at all hours if he wasn’t. And don’t argue that bit because I hear your phone going off _all night_. Does he even sleep?” Zayn chuckles. “And it doesn’t matter if you’ve dated a guy before or not. As long as you’re not having some internal freak-out over the fact that you’re flirting with a guy, then it’ll all be fine.”

“I mean, I’ve danced with guys, so…”

“My point exactly,” Louis says simply. “You’ve obviously shown an interest in them before. Besides, just because you _haven’t_ dated a guy doesn’t mean you _can’t_. We’d get nowhere, if that were the case.”

“You need to stop being so _right_ right now,” Zayn whines.

He taps the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray on the balcony and exhales the last breath of smoke. Louis does the same and turns to face Zayn. “I think you should at least send him a photo. But it’s been weeks… months?” Louis wonders, and then shakes his head as he continues, “I think you need to consider the fact that this could be turning into a relationship. And don’t be afraid of that fact.”

Louis walks inside and leaves Zayn out on the balcony. Zayn looks out at the buildings around him, at the buzz of London life and the fact that unlike Louis, he’s still single. He’s graduating in a few short weeks and then adulthood is really going to hit him.

With a sigh, Zayn leans against the railing and pulls out his phone. As he’d expected, there was a text from Niall waiting to be opened. It’s something about his revision; they’d been talking casually about it ever since Zayn mentioned he had a ton of it to do that weekend. Niall did, too, so he’d sympathized. Zayn taps out a reply to Niall, his heart thrumming nervously in his chest the whole time.

 **Zayn:** I can’t focus here. Want to meet up somewhere to study?

This is it. Niall can take the offer or he can reject him. It might have been out of the blue or sudden but Louis is right – they’ve been texting for nearly two months now, so why can’t they meet up? Niall should know what he looks like. But just the thought of it makes Zayn sick to his stomach because he doesn’t know this guy, not in person, and what if he’s different? What if one look at Zayn makes him uninterested?

He watches the little bubble on his screen. Niall’s writing, but it’s taking him forever. He should have put his phone back in his pocket so he wouldn’t stand there, watching expectantly for a reply. Now if Niall doesn’t send one, he’ll know he changed his mind. The thought of that scares Zayn even more.

 **Niall:** sure ! there’s a good place over by my flat. dee’s cafe. meet you there in an hour?

He sounds eager, which helps to relax Zayn, but at the same time he has no idea how this is going to go. It could end horribly and he’d be right back where he started. Zayn checks out where the café is on a map and then replies.

 **Zayn:** Sounds good. I’ll see you then.

It’s shocking, how fast Niall taps out another reply. This one makes Zayn nervous all over again, and he’s got butterflies in his stomach as he thinks about how to reply.

 **Niall:** wait ! i dunno what u look like ! how will I know which person is u?

Does he send a photo? Does he describe himself? Does he promise to just walk up to Niall since he knows what he looks like? Zayn bites his lower lip nervously as he debates which one to go with. He knows the easy answer, that he should send a photo because it’s only fair, but he’s always thought of himself as a rather rubbish selfie-taker.

He goes for it anyway, holding the camera in front of him and trying his best to look like himself without putting the phone at an unflattering angle. When he’s finally got something he’s satisfied with, Zayn presses send and stuffs the phone in his pocket.

He’s too nervous to pull it out again.

Still, Zayn goes to his room and packs his bag with all the revision he’s got – mostly just his laptop and some novels he’s got to analyze, but he adds his philosophy book as well, just in case he gets around to it. He’s not sure how much they’ll actually focus once they meet up. He’s got his wallet in his pocket but throws a few granola bars in his bag because he’s not a fan of overpaying for café snacks. A plain cup of coffee does him just fine at coffee shops.

Then he taps the address into a website and figures out the easiest tube ride there. He doesn’t tell Louis or Liam where he’s going, but from the amount of nervousness on his face he’s sure they’ve figured it out anyway.

He gets to the café first and stands by the door looking around for Niall. When he sees him walking down the street in tight skinny jeans and an Eagles shirt with a backpack slung over his shoulder, he swallows hard and his hand wrings the strap of his book bag. Niall waves, and Zayn’s so flustered he nearly forgets to wave back. He’s not exactly fond of strangers or social interaction sometimes, so this is hard for him. It’s terrifying, because what if Niall doesn’t like him? That other guy didn’t.

When Niall walks up to him on the sidewalk, their eyes lock but they don’t say anything. Zayn can hear his heart pounding in his chest and he knows that he has no reason to be so scared. Niall’s taking him in, feature by feature, a big smile on his face. “You look even better than in your photo,” Niall admits.

He’s got a pink tint in his cheeks and Zayn feels his own face growing hotter as he tries to shrug it off. “I mean ‘t,” Niall insists. “Like, I dunno why that bloke gave you a wrong number. Feckin’ idiot if y’ask me.”

Big blue eyes are taking in every feature of Zayn and he feels like he’s under a microscope. Niall’s staring so intently, so _reverently_ , that Zayn doesn’t know how to handle the attention. “D’you wanna like, get coffee?” Zayn asks nervously.

It’s hard, being looked at so closely. Niall must pick up on this, because he nods and says, “Yeah, o’course. Let’s go.”

Niall has still got that adorable smile on his face, and Zayn follows him into the shop. “D’you wanna grab us a table while I get the drinks?” he asks.

Zayn hesitates, and Niall adds, “I insist. What’ll you have?”

“Um… coffee. Plain’s fine,” he says.

“Alright. Be there in a second,” Niall smiles, and he nods Zayn off.

Niall queues up for coffee while Zayn wanders the shop until he finds one lone empty table near an outlet. It’s right in the front window of the shop, but it’s got an outlet for his computer so it’ll have to do. Zayn sits down and sets his bag next to him on the floor, then pulls out his notes so he can outline his paper.

It’s only a few minutes until Niall joins him, and he’s got two cups of coffee in hand. “Thanks,” Zayn says gratefully as he takes his from Niall.

“Cheers,” Niall nods.

And it’s awkward, at first. Niall’s revision looks nothing like Zayn’s – he’s studying music production so most of his stuff is technical diagrams of mixboards and he’s got some sheet music in front of him, too. “So d’you read a lot, then?” Niall asks as he looks over at Zayn’s array of books.

“Yeah, it’s… well, yeah,” he tries to explain, but flushes as he fails.

“Are you studying literature?” Niall presses.

“Nah, I mean… it’s good fun and all but this module was just to see if I liked it.”

“And you don’t like it enough to join the course?” Niall wonders.

Zayn shakes his head. “Think I’m gonna do art history actually,” Zayn admits. “Maybe take some extra drawing modules too.”

Niall’s watching Zayn with interest and he likes the way this has turned into a conversation about themselves without making it so obvious. It turns into Zayn showing Niall some photos he’s snapped of his art on his phone. They were mostly meant for his mum’s eyes only but he doesn’t feel weird about showing them to Niall. Niall seems really cool about it, and interested in seeing more of what he’s done. “What about you?” Zayn asks. “D’you like… I mean, is this the only music stuff you do?” He gestures to Niall’s book.

“Nah. It’s what’ll get me a job I reckon. I’d rather be performin’ though,” he shrugs. “I’ve played guitar me whole life, practically. I like to sing, too.”

“Do you do shows or anything?” Zayn wonders.

Niall laughs at that, and the laughter sounds so much more melodic and beautiful than it did the first time he heard it, that night when Niall was mocking him. “Nah, ‘m not that good,” he says.

“I dunno,” Zayn shrugs. “If you’ve been doing it as long as you say you have, then maybe you are.”

It’s not awkward now, Zayn realizes. He feels comfortable around Niall, who seems to feel just as comfortable in return, given how chatty he is.

They really do focus on their revision, for which Zayn is eternally grateful because sometimes he puts off his studies so he can sketch or go out for drinks or just lounge about watching the telly. He’s focused, but at the same time he keeps glancing up at Niall to remind himself that _yeah, this is actually happening._

Hours pass before Niall begins to pack away his things. Zayn’s got more work than he’s got time for, so naturally Niall was finished first. He finishes off the last of his coffee before he says, “Y’look really into your stuff there.”

Niall’s sheepishly watching Zayn, hoping for forgiveness after interrupting whatever Zayn was working on. Slowly Zayn looks up, his hair falling in his eyes, but he whips it away with one jolt of his head. “’s fine,” he insists. “I should take a break anyway. You done?”

“Yeah,” Niall nods. “Don’t stop on account of me though.”

“It’s fine, honestly,” Zayn promises. He closes his book and reaches out for his cup, only to be reminded that he’d emptied it on his last sip.

He sets it back down and looks up at Niall curiously; he’s not sure if they’re meant to leave now, or if they’re going to talk some more. Niall glances at his watch, and then asks with some hesitation in his voice, “D’you want to grab a pint?”

Zayn glances to the corner of his computer screen. _5:17_. He hadn’t realized all that time has passed, and if he’s being honest a pint sounds fantastic after studying all afternoon. “Sure,” he nods. “Sounds great.”

Niall beams, and he says excitedly, “Ace! I know the perfect place; it’s just down the street. Just no yellin’ at me if you get a bit tipsy now, yeah?”

Zayn’s cheeks color at the memory of the night they’d first met, and he looks down as he smiles, nods, and says, “Yeah, alright, I deserved that one.”

He packs up his things while Niall brings their cups to the counter, and Zayn meets him over by the door. They’ve both got their bags slung over their shoulders and they step back out into the brisk air. “I still can’t believe that bloke gave you a fake number,” Niall says after a pause. “I mean, you probably get this a lot, but… you’re a looker, for sure.”

“Nah, not that much,” Zayn replies modestly, his voice soft.

He laughs, the sound melodic and sweet to Zayn’s ears. “Seriously? I think you’re well fit and should hear it all the time,” Niall tells him. He’s being so kind and so honest Zayn’s not quite sure what to say in reply.

He wants to fight the smile threatening to spread across his face, but he can’t. Not when Niall’s being so sweet about it and making him feel better about that night. It had been a sore wound for a while; Zayn wasn’t used to rejection like that.

They walk in and find a big booth in the corner, at Niall’s insistence. “We could just sit at the bar,” Zayn argues as they walk through the place, holding their pints.

“Nah, let’s invite some friends, make a night of it,” Niall suggests.

He’s watching Zayn closely though, like he’s not quite sure if Zayn wants people to join them. Zayn nods, thankful for the prospect of having other people around to take some of the pressure off of them. He likes hanging out with Niall, just as he’d liked texting him, but now he’s running out of things to talk about and it’s hard for him not to just sit and stare at Niall as he sips his beer.

In the end, Niall says he’s going to ask his roommate to come out and Zayn agrees to call his as well. Liam and Louis definitely sound up for it, and promise to be there soon. It’s only a couple minutes before Niall’s roommate arrives, and Zayn’s jaw drops when he sees him.

”Harry?” he asks, confused.

Harry grins when he sees Zayn and says, “I thought it’d be you! I told Niall, y’know,” he says as he sits down. “I told him… how many Zayn’s do you think there are in London, right? So he says more than one and I was just _sure_ it was you that he met.” Harry’s beaming, dimples clearer than they’d been that night in the club, and he says, “Sorry about that other bloke. He was an ex of mine, actually. Didn’t think he’d give out old numbers though. But I suppose it’s good, right? Brought you two together.”

Niall seems to know the full story behind that, and he acts like it’s no big thing that Zayn’s danced drunkenly upon his roommate at a bar once. Zayn’s lost for words, and just nods in reply before sipping at his beer some more.

All three are sipping their beers and chatting when Zayn hears them. Louis is easy to hear before you see him; it’s just sort of how he is. He stands and waves them down, catching their attention so they can all sit in the booth together. “Well Zayn, you’ve just made all kinds of friends, haven’t you?” Louis teases as he scoots in to sit by Zayn, who’s ended up in the middle of the half-moon shaped booth somehow.

Liam slides into the end, and he orders drinks for both he and Louis as Zayn flushes and says, “This is Niall. And his roommate Harry.”

Louis narrows his eyes at Harry and says, “You look familiar.”

“Weren’t you at the club that night, too?” Harry asks.

Liam looks confused, and Harry eagerly launches into a very detailed explanation of how he’d met Zayn at the bar and they’d danced together before his ex gave Zayn a fake number. “Such a troublemaker, Hazza,” Louis laughs as he gulps down nearly half his pint at once.

Niall laughs and holds up his own glass. “Good lad,” he says to Louis.

And just like that they’re hanging out as five friends, like they’ve known each other for ages. Zayn’s not sure how he managed to make this happen, but he likes it. He sits there for a while, sipping his beer and contributing when he feels like it, but otherwise he just listens. Zayn loves to listen because he notices things about people, like the way Niall nearly bends in half when he’s laughing and his hands fly out, beer in one hand, the other one always ending up on Zayn’s thigh.

Harry loves telling stories, loves seeing the enjoyment on other peoples’ faces when he gets to the good part. Sometimes he gets caught up in his own brain, taking care that he doesn’t forget a single detail, but he can always pick up on when he’s losing his audience and knows how to reel them back in.

Liam’s clearly interested in both of the new guys, easily conversing with them like they’ve known each other for years. That’s one of Liam’s gifts, being friendly even to strangers. Zayn’s not sure how he does it.

Now Louis – he’s easier to read even if he tries to hide it. Zayn notices the probing questions, the way he masks them under that sweet façade he can manage to put up when he feels like it. A few questions seem blunt and brash, like asking Harry if he’s got a job or if he’s bumming off Niall, and Harry deflects like he’s used to such things.

Zayn knows Louis’s okay with it all though, sees the way he’s giving Zayn these glances that say he approves of his choice in Niall, and their newfound friendship with Harry. He reads Zayn like a book, which most of the time Zayn really appreciates. Like when Zayn’s tapping his leg up and down, even if Niall’s got a hand on it, because he’s itching for a cigarette. It’s been ages since he’s last had one; he didn’t want to scare Niall off with it. Most blokes are pretty polarized when it comes to smoking.

“Sorry lads, time for a smoke break,” Louis announces without decorum. “Coming Zayn?”

But his look says Zayn doesn’t have a choice, like he’d better just go because it’s clear he needs it. Nobody else bats an eyelash, and Liam scoots out of the booth to let Louis and Zayn out. When they head out the front door and Louis pulls a pack out of his pocket, Zayn lets out a heavy breath. “You like him, don’t you?” Louis asks, phrasing it more like a sentence than a question.

Zayn lights his cigarette and inhales deeply, letting the nicotine course through his veins, pumping away the jitters, before he nods and exhales. “Suppose so, yeah.”

“He’s cute,” Louis comments, but Zayn hears the approval. “You picked well.”

“It was an accident, you know that,” Zayn argues.

Louis laughs and leans against the wall of the building, avoiding the droplets of rain that are beginning to fall. The awning doesn’t look like it’d do much for them but it’s something. Zayn joins him, their arms touching from shoulder to elbow, as he sighs and concedes, “I really do like him, mate.”

“He’s obviously into you, too,” Louis says simply. “Think he might even take you home with him if you actually give him a _sign_.”

“Lou-,” Zayn tries to argue.

“He’s all over you, mate,” Louis laughs, amused at how flustered Zayn looks. “He’s had his hand on your leg for hours. It’d be good for you to go out with him. Chill at his place. There’s nothing like a walk of shame to really make you figure out if he’s worth it, after all.”

“Just because it worked for you and Liam…” Zayn begins.

Louis elbows Zayn and he’s jostled out of finishing his sentence. Zayn looks up at the sky as rain drops fall faster on the sidewalk. He’s quiet for a moment before he says, “Think I might give it a go, I guess.”

“You guess?” Louis teases. “You’re funny. We’re all going to make you two have a fair shot, you know. Even Harry. I’ve already decided.”

“Oh, you decided for everyone, huh?” Zayn laughs.

Louis looks over at Zayn, his eyes bright with happiness. He takes another puff of his cigarette and nods, “Yeah, I did. Because you’d be fucking daft to let this one walk away. We can all see it.”

Zayn drops the butt of his cigarette into the jar by the door, the can of water to put them out and dispose of them in. Louis follows suit but stops Zayn before they walk back inside. “I mean it,” he says softly, a serious side showing that Zayn very rarely sees. There’s a hint of concern in Louis’s eyes, like he thinks maybe Zayn would purposely sabotage himself. “Give him a shot, alright?”

“I am,” Zayn nods. “I promise, Lou.”

Louis smiles at him, nods, and then pushes Zayn through the door so he can follow. They slide back into the booth where Niall’s just ordered them a few giant plates of chips. Harry’s pouting, and Louis asks, “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted the cheese plate!” Harry whines.

Zayn laughs and Liam says, “We told you, we’re not having wine! Besides, why would we get a cheese plate when we can have mounds of _chips_?”

“Get the cheese too, come on,” Zayn says suddenly. “Indulge poor Hazza.” He leans over and whispers to Niall, “Maybe it’ll make it easier to kick him out later, if you want.”

Niall turns sharply, gaze meeting Zayn’s. Zayn’s cheeks are pink and he’s a little tipsy but he’s smiling, and Niall likes that. He grins brightly and his hand finds Zayn’s thigh again. He laughs, just something soft between the two of them, and Niall plants the softest of kisses to the corner of his mouth before they focus their attention back on everyone else.

It’s easier for Zayn to relax, knowing Louis can tell that Niall is a good guy and that Niall is definitely into him. After his girlfriend and their relationship and subsequent falling out, Zayn’s been hesitant to get into anything with anyone. Louis told him for ages that Perrie wasn’t good for him, but he didn’t listen. Louis is such a good judge of character, Zayn decided he wasn’t going to date anyone until Louis approved because he’d know from the start if he’d get hurt.

The approval helps, lets Zayn know that he’s not crazy this time, that Niall being nice and sweet is real, not just something he’s chalked up in his head because he’s so fit. Niall’s a genuinely good person… Zayn likes that.

As the five of them have more drinks and over-indulge in chips and cheese (which everyone ate, after all), they feel more like five mates, less like strangers brought together by Niall and Zayn. Thankfully, that makes it easier to shove Harry off onto Liam and Louis. Zayn offers up his bedroom to Harry so they can have Niall’s flat all to themselves, and tries not to think too much about what he thinks he heard someone say about Harry not needing a separate room when he goes back with Liam and Louis.

That leaves Niall and Zayn alone, a little bit pissed and beaming from ear to ear. Their bags are in Liam’s car – he’s the responsible one who promised to pick up Zayn tomorrow anyway, serving a dual purpose so Niall can have his things back as well. “No walk of shame,” Louis pouted, but then promptly received a chip in the face from Niall to wipe the pout away.

Now they’re hand in hand, stumbling down the sidewalk, grinning like mad. “D’you think like… did the guy know he was giving my number to you? Did he know it was real? It just… makes y’wonder, right?” Niall slurs happily.

Zayn nods, but knows Niall didn’t see. He doesn’t much care because they’ve had plenty of drinks and it’s not the time to get existential anyway. Plus, he thinks Niall’s not making much sense, either, though in his drunken state Zayn can’t be sure. He glances over at Niall, who’s got on a smile brighter than the sun. It makes Zayn’s heart do a weird flutter and he can’t describe what it is or what it means, all he knows is that he likes it.

Niall wasn’t kidding when he said his place wasn’t far from where they were hanging out. It only takes five minutes of stumbling and nervous giggles to bring them to the door of Niall’s flat. He’s on the first level, for which Zayn is eternally grateful, and they wait in the chilly evening air as Niall fumbles around with his keys.

“Let me have a go,” Zayn says, elbowing his way in.

He’s got excellent motor skills, even when he’s drunk, and he manages to open the door without any trouble. Niall grabs the keys back and drops them on accident, laughing at how clumsy he is. Zayn bends over to pick them up, and lets out a shout as Niall’s hand claps his bum with a muffled _slap_! He stands up straight and faces Niall, who’s laughing and looking so absolutely beautiful that Zayn can’t find it in him to be mad. “I couldn’t help it!” Niall says.

Zayn flushes and closes the door behind them as they walk inside. The flat looks exactly as Zayn would expect it to look; plain, a little messy, but with that same distinct scent of _Niall_ that he can smell now as Niall’s inching into his personal space. He’s standing behind Zayn, warm and heavy, and one of his hands falls on Zayn’s thin hip, thumb rubbing circles over his jutting hip bone. “Hey,” Zayn sighs, his voice barely a whisper.

“Hi,” Niall says, mouthing at Zayn’s neck.

They’re nearly the same height but Zayn feels small in Niall’s arms; he slots right there against his front, like that’s how they’re meant to be. Like puzzle pieces, almost. Niall is warm and he smells a bit like cologne but mostly like the pub.

They’ve spent nearly all day together, Zayn realizes briefly, and it didn’t feel laborious at all. Zayn usually feels exhausted after a full day of social interaction, but not with Niall. It’s easier with him, less taxing. He breathes easily as he’s held against Niall’s chest and he feels at home there. “Have I told you yet that that other bloke is an idiot?” Niall asks, the smile clear in his voice even though Zayn can’t see his face.

“Y’might’ve mentioned it, yeah,” Zayn breathes.

He turns his head to try to look at Niall properly, but he can’t. Niall’s face is right there, close and flushed pink, and suddenly Zayn feels breath on his lips and Niall is completely surrounding him. He feels his eyes crossing so he closes them instead, letting the rest of his senses take in the moment. “Zayn?” Niall whispers.

Their lips are nearly brushing and Zayn knows what comes next, knows that Niall wants to ask if he can kiss him. Even though he’s buzzed, Zayn’s still incredibly receptive, and instead of keeping the conversation going he replies, “Just do it.”

In an instant, Niall does. He barely has to move at all in order to brush their lips together, and he’s still leaning over Zayn’s shoulder as he does it. Niall’s arms are warm and safe, wrapping around Zayn’s lithe form as the kiss deepens, hours of sexual tension that built up at the pub finally flowing over, bringing them together.

Zayn turns in Niall’s arms, neck growing sore from turning his head, and it’s so much easier to stand in front of Niall, chest to chest, with his arms woven up around his shoulders. Niall slides his arms fully around Zayn’s waist, and then down over his bum, and Zayn already knows there’s no stopping now. Not when he’s intoxicated on a few pints and plenty of Niall’s kisses. Not when he feels more alive, more _wanted_ , than he’s felt in months.

It takes no time at all for it to click in Zayn’s head that this is it, this is home. If he had nothing in the world but Niall and his kisses to get him through, he thinks he might be okay.

They’re nearly the same height but Niall lifts Zayn anyway, hands holding him up by his bum as Zayn takes the cue and wraps his legs around Niall’s waist. Zayn doesn’t worry about whether Niall will still want him in the morning, or if the sex will be good, because those don’t feel like things he has to worry about with Niall. Nothing about Niall is worrisome to Zayn, and he likes that. It relaxes him and lets him feel everything happening in that moment.

He feels Niall’s stubble, thin and blonde, something he didn’t notice before when they were at the pub. There’s the faint taste of chips on his breath and he can definitely taste the beer, but something about it makes Zayn smile as his arms wrap further around Niall’s shoulders.

They’ve deepened the kiss now, tongues exploring each other’s mouths as small hums and moans get lost between their lips. Zayn feels frantic and lazy all at once, like he needs all of Niall, instantly, or he’ll feel empty and lost without him, but also like he has forever with this man because he feels so permanent already.

Niall’s carrying him away and Zayn knows what’s next and he wants it, already feels himself growing hard in his jeans at the thought of it. “Want you,” Niall mutters into Zayn’s mouth.

Zayn nods, a million cliché responses flashing through his mind but not a single word coming to his lips. He slides his fingers through Niall’s hair, soft and feathery bottle-blonde and already messy from the way Zayn’s been clutching to him.

He’s on his back in the middle of Niall’s bed before he knows it, but Zayn’s flushed and ready. The hem of his shirt has ridden up, exposing some of his tattoos along his hips, and Niall licks his lips as he leans out, an arm on either side of Zayn. He’s kneeling between Zayn’s legs and leaning down for a kiss and Zayn feels so small but not at all inferior. Niall’s looking at him with a sense of love and admiration. It’s all Zayn needs, really.

His lithe fingers reach out for Niall’s shirt, unceremoniously grabbing at the shoulders of it to pull it up over his head. Niall’s hair is even more ruffled now as Zayn tosses the offending garment aside, and he can’t help but smile as he runs his hands over Niall’s smooth, unmarred torso. He’s got a few tufts of chest hair but it’s light and soft. Zayn’s fingers card through it as he slides his hand up to hold Niall at the nape of his neck to guide him in for another kiss. “This isn’t fair now, is it,” Niall laughs into the kiss as he pulls away after a peck.

Zayn smiles, flushed, and sits up enough so Niall can pull his shirt off as well. “Christ,” Niall mutters, eyes taking in the littering of tattoos all over Zayn’s body.

Zayn’s lower lip worries between his teeth but Niall kisses any fear away. He’s grinding down against Zayn now as their kisses grow heated again, bare chests grazing. Zayn’s jeans suddenly feel too tight and he wants to rush this but likes how slowly they’re taking it. He feels like he’s going to be sober by the time Niall’s actually in him and he likes the thought of that.

“Y’good?” Niall whispers, resting his forehead against Zayn’s as they catch their breath.

Zayn breathes out a “yes,” his lips puffy and pink from all the kissing. Niall leans back to look at him properly, to make sure that the words match the expression, and they do. He smiles at Zayn, who smiles back. “I dunno about you but my jeans are too tight,” Niall laughs.

Just like that, he’s broken the ice, and Zayn’s so incredibly grateful. Zayn smiles, a soft chuckle escaping his own lips, and he reaches out for one of Niall’s hands. He brings it down between them to cup at the front of his jeans and Niall wiggles his eyebrows as he rubs gently, Zayn’s smile fluttering into a soft _oh_.

But then Niall’s stepping away, and Zayn tries not to growl with sexual frustration. Niall’s fumbling with his belt and halfway to being naked by the time Zayn’s brain catches up with the situation, but when he does he stands too. Niall’s got his hands gripping the waistband of his jeans but he watches Zayn, like he’s waiting so they can do this together.

Zayn swallows hard before he goes first, lowering his jeans down his legs slowly, kicking them off one foot at a time. When he stands up straight, he looks across at Niall, trying to push away that feeling of vulnerability as he drops a hand to touch the front of his pants where they’re tenting, showing off how badly he wants this.

Nialls eyes dart down, watching Zayn work himself in his hand through the fabric, and then he copies Zayn, lowering his jeans down to the floor and kicking them aside. There’s a tent in the front of his boxers and he reaches down to touch as well, his eyes dragging back up to lock with Zayn’s. All they can hear in the room is their own breathing.

His pants are the only thing left on his body, but Zayn knows it’s time for them to go. He takes a deep breath and slowly hooks his thumbs in the waistband before he lowers them, standing up only once he’s kicked them totally off to the side. His hand drops to his front again to stroke himself gently. He’s sure that if he’d let go he’d just be embarrassingly hard, more than Niall probably, but he distracts himself by looking up, hoping to watch Niall get rid of his boxers so they can really get this going.

Niall’s moving eagerly now, his hands already grabbing his boxers, but his eyes are watching Zayn like he was waiting for him to be ready to watch this, just as he watched Zayn. Dark eyes dart down to watch Niall’s hands, and he slowly lowers his boxers down his legs until they’re completely out of the way. He stands up unabashed, and Zayn can’t help but stare.

He’s beautiful, from head to toe. His skin is pale but there’s a distinct blush all over his chest and cheeks, and he looks so innocent compared to Zayn, with no tattoos marring his perfectly pale and freckled skin. Niall’s taking in Zayn’s whole body hungrily, but there’s tension and desire in the air and Niall’s never been incredibly patient so he can’t help but reach out to touch.

His hands are big and warm, and Zayn lets his eyes fall closed as he feels them graze down his sides and over his hips. “Thank fuck that guy was an idiot,” Niall mutters, “You’re perfect.” He takes hold of Zayn around his hips and easily pushes him back on the bed, Niall’s warm weight a reminder that this is real, and it’s happening, and Zayn’s having trouble catching his breath just at the realization of it all.

Zayn’s eyes close and he blushes, and Niall notices the way his eyelashes splay over his cheeks so perfectly. He leans down, peppering kisses on his eyelids and his cheeks and the tip of his nose as he lets his hands wander lower, over Zayn’s ass and then towards his cock. Zayn’s heart is racing in his chest and he’s got his hands everywhere and nowhere all at once, trying his hardest to make Niall feel as good as he does.

Niall is surrounding his senses and seems to know exactly what he’s doing. The sobriety is washing over them but Zayn’s glad for it because it means he can feel Niall and touch him and remember every detail – every freckle, every sound, and every smell.

Niall’s shuffling above him and then he’s easing a finger into him and Zayn’s not even sure where he got the lube from or when he opened it but he doesn’t care because Niall’s being so tender, so gentle as he does it that Zayn’s mind is blanking out. He’s got his jaw dropped in a soft _oh_ as he moans, Niall’s finger going deeper, crooking and teasing as he moves it in and out, easing Zayn into it.

Zayn’s wrecked already, flushed and sweaty on the duvet of Niall’s bed. They probably should’ve moved it before lying down because it’s going to get dirty very quickly with them on top of it, but Zayn doesn’t want to move because his entire body is alight with a pleasure he’s never quite felt with anyone else. He’s never done this before, been a bottom for someone, but Niall seems like an expert and Zayn’s enjoying it so he’s certainly not going to question it or start to worry that he won’t be good enough.

Niall’s blue eyes are sparkling in the soft light of the room, just the glow from the street lamp outside illuminating their activities. He looks perfect this way, eyes dark and blown with lust as he looks down at Zayn as though they’re the only two on the planet. Zayn likes the feeling of Niall looking at him this way, even though it’s terrifying at the same time. He can’t mean that much to someone – he never has before – and it’s a pressure he’s not quite sure he’s prepared to handle.

But then Niall’s easing in another finger and Zayn’s eyes flutter shut and all the anxiety that had been sweeping over him is gone all at once, drawing a slight smile upon his puffy, kiss-swollen lips. “What’s so funny?” Niall whispers, leaning in as he keeps his arm down between them.

His nose brushes Zayn’s and Zayn struggles to find his voice as he replies hoarsely, “Nothin’.”

“Doesn’t look like nothin’ to me,” Niall whispers back, and Zayn can hear the smile in his words.

Zayn’s already trembling with desire – he sees it in his hand as he reaches up to pull Niall into a gentle kiss – and he hopes that’s enough of an answer. The kiss is cut short by the moan that escapes with the addition of a third finger inside of him, and the room suddenly feels much warmer than it had just seconds earlier.

They’re both sticky and Zayn can smell a sweaty musk around them, but everything still feels as perfect as when he’d first seen him on the sidewalk. Niall’s taking such care with him, making Zayn feel so protected even though he’s in the most vulnerable position he’s ever experienced. When Niall pulls away, Zayn uses every ounce of restraint in him not to pout. He knows why Niall’s done it, even before he opens his eyes and sees Niall’s trembling hands sliding a condom on.

Once he’s done that he looks up at Zayn, searching his eyes as he asks, “Y’ready?”

Zayn swallows hard, opens his mouth to answer, but it’s gone dry as he thinks about how this is his first time, how he’s trusting Niall with this. Instead he nods, and he reaches out for Niall, who happily leans toward him again.

Zayn’s legs are parted as Niall kneels above them, and he holds Niall’s face on either side as he leans up for another kiss. “I’m ready,” he whispers into a kiss, and that’s when he feels Niall’s hand reach down.

There’s nothing but the sound of their breathing as Niall breaks the kiss to watch what he’s doing as he lines himself up. Zayn lays his head back on the pillows, bracing himself. “Relax,” Niall says softly. “It’s good, I promise.”

“You’ve done it?” Zayn asks, a slight tremble in his voice.

“Yeah,” Niall replies easily.

They haven’t talked about it fully, not really, but Niall knows this is Zayn’s first time. Maybe that’s why he’s being so sweet and gentle – or maybe that’s just the way he is. Zayn feels a thrill at the thought of getting to find out, providing this goes well. Even if it doesn’t, maybe, if Niall likes him enough.

And then Niall’s gently easing inside of him and it’s a stretch, and Zayn’s forgotten to breathe as he feels the slight burn that goes along with his first time. But he wants this and he can already tell it’ll get better because there’s the edge of pain but mostly there’s just the connectedness and the way Niall’s whispering reassurances in his ear and _that’s_ what he focuses on. He trusts that it’s good because why else would anyone do it? And slowly Zayn remembers to breathe again, his muscles slowly relaxing as he adjusts to the intrusion.

Niall’s whispering something as he pushes Zayn’s fringe from his forehead, and when he opens his eyes to look up he sees Niall smiling down at him and asking him if he’s okay. Zayn nods, reaching out to hold Niall at his waist, the closest place he can reach, and he closes his eyes again as Niall rocks his hips gently, sliding out and then back in, a little deeper this time.

And as soon as he focuses on Niall and the way his kisses are light and sporadic and his touches and thrusts are so slow and hesitant so Zayn can adjust, Zayn’s already feeling that edge of pain disappearing, ebbing into something so much better.

Just like that, he’s wondering why he’d ever been with anyone else or done it any other way because _fuck_ if Niall doesn’t feel absolutely amazing inside of him. He feels closer to Niall than he’s ever felt to anyone else before in his life, and it’s scary how hard the emotions are hitting him. Zayn can feel his hands shaking as he tugs at Niall’s hips, urging him closer and faster. He hears his shaky breath, interrupted now and again with little kisses from Niall.

And Niall.

Zayn looks up as much as he can, even if he’s nearly too overwhelmed with pleasure to manage it, just so he can see the way Niall’s got pink flushed patches on his cheeks and when he hasn’t got his eyes shut, he’s watching Zayn with so much care and tenderness it’s almost unreal. Niall’s freckles stand out on his pale skin and Zayn flickers his fingers over them before dragging a hand down between them, thumb brushing over one of Niall’s nipples.

Niall’s moan is beautiful, melodic even, and he loses his rhythm as Zayn teases the bud between two fingers. He can’t help but smile, and when he looks back up to Niall’s face, Niall’s watching him with a wide smirk. “You little minx,” he mutters against Zayn’s lips before capturing another kiss.

But they’re both smiling too much for the kiss to be much of a kiss, and Zayn moans again as Niall thrusts hard and deep inside of him. That draws the mood more serious and tender again, and Zayn’s clutching at Niall’s broad shoulders, urging him to do it again.

And Niall does.

They find a steady rhythm and Zayn’s not sure how long it goes on, but he feels like it’s mere seconds before his back is arching from the bed and he’s whispering into Niall’s mouth that he’s close.

Niall reaches down and scoops an arm around Zayn’s waist where he’s arched his back, and Zayn’s not really on the bed anymore because he’s holding Niall around his shoulders. It’s a new angle and the position takes a lot of strength, but it doesn’t matter because they won’t have to hold it for long. Neither of them are even touching Zayn where he’s hard and leaking between them and he still feels so overwhelmed with pleasure he can hardly speak.

His jaw drops, his mouth forming into a small _oh_ once more, and his legs wrap tightly around Niall’s waist as he comes, thick ropes of white landing on both of them. “Fuck,” Niall mutters, looking down to watch as he’s buried to the hilt inside of Zayn.

That seems to be all it takes for him, watching Zayn, because Niall’s moaning too and he’s burying his face in Zayn’s neck, trembling in waves. Zayn’s holding Niall around his shoulders and he’s got one hand in his hair, fingers carding through the blonde strands and petting gently as he feels Niall come down from it, still buried deep in him.

Zayn kisses Niall’s cheek, and then the tip of his nose as Niall leans away, and gently he’s lowered back onto the bed. They look at each other and smile, eyes lazy and droopy and lips swollen and deep red. They’re spent and sweaty and the smell of sex and cologne and sweat is filling the room, but they don’t even notice, because they’re too busy looking at each other, both in disbelief from how much they feel for the other person already.

Ever so gently, Niall pulls out of Zayn and climbs from the bed to dispose of the condom. He returns with a flannel and wipes himself off on his walk to the bed before reaching out to wipe the mess from Zayn as well. Zayn flinches just a little, being as he’s so sensitive, but once Niall’s done he feels much better.

There’s uncertainty in the air as Zayn shifts from the bed to grab his pants and slip them on. Niall does the same, and Zayn just stands by the side of the bed for a moment. “Sorry we made a mess,” he says softly, holding up the stained duvet.

That makes Niall grin, and he tugs it off the bed and tosses it aside as he says, “It’s okay. I’ll take you over a duvet any day.”

And it’s so cheesy of him to say but he means it, and Zayn can see that all over his face. Niall climbs onto the bed, tugging an old quilt off of the chair by the window, tossing it across the bed haphazardly like a substitute duvet.

Zayn’s still standing though; he’s not sure if he’s invited to stay over or not. After his last relationship, he’s always worried that he’s sticking around where he’s not wanted, and the last thing Zayn wants to do is drive away Niall before they even really have a shot at something.

But Niall’s looking up at him with amused confusion and asking, “Well? Are you gonna come back to bed or what?”

It’s all the invitation Zayn needs, and if the words weren’t enough, the way Niall reaches out for him to hold him close to his chest certainly does tell him that he’s welcome to stay, that he’s wanted. Niall plants a kiss on his forehead, and it’s a little wet but Zayn doesn’t mind because Niall’s sweet and he’s caring and he wants Zayn around.

That’s all Zayn could ever want, really.


End file.
